


Tuesday

by thevalesofanduin



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: As in actually little children, Bilbo works at a coffee shop, Bofur - Freeform, Fili and Kili are cute little shits, Just read it okay?, Love at first sight-ish, M/M, Romance, Thorin is worried, but it's not a coffee shop AU, fili - Freeform, it will all make sense, kili - Freeform, modern day AU, more like a Gorcery Store AU, well a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevalesofanduin/pseuds/thevalesofanduin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo hates Tuesdays and, in turn, Tuesdays always hate him.</p>
<p>This Tuesday, though, has been quite a series of unfortunate events following each other a bit too closely for comfort. This is, as might be expected, about to change quite drastically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Werecakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werecakes/gifts).



> A short something for [Werecakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Werecakes/pseuds/Werecakes) because she's awesome and inspired me to write this. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

Today is Tuesday.

Bilbo hates Tuesdays and, in turn, Tuesdays always hate him.

It starts when his alarm rings at six, reminding him to get the fuck out of bed. He works Tuesday ‘till Friday, four days of torture leaving him three days to do the thing he loves. But writing doesn’t earn him a living and thus he has to suffer through a job to actually pay his rent and buy his groceries from. It had taken him ages to actually be hired – as a 25 year old with a philosophy major, no previous working experience and an unhealthy ambition to become a writer it was hard enough to get a job. Oh, and did he mention the financial crisis? The place isn’t Starbucks – _thank God!_ – which makes it not so bad. But fact remains that it is a coffee shop. And Bilbo Baggins is, on top of everything else, a tea lover.

Work isn’t the only reason Bilbo hates Tuesdays. If it was, he would hate the other three days he worked as well. But Tuesday is different. Tuesday is _busy_. Tuesday is the day his boss thought was a slow day and thus Bilbo and Bofur are in charge of the shop together. For the entire day. Bofur is nice, he and Bilbo get along just fine. But they never get a chance to talk, for the entire day is always a rush of smiling, taking orders, giving change and making freaking coffee.

Tuesday is also the day Bilbo has to do his groceries. It’s not that he doesn’t like to do his groceries, certainly not. It’s that the supermarket he goes to is always so busy with people so unlike him. Classy, rich, upper-class and not a single one of them ever spares him a glance. They are all just pushing by him, pushing their shoulders against him when _they_ feel he is in the way and rolling their eyes and sighing annoyingly loud when he fumbles with his small change. But it’s the only shop in town that sells his cherished brand of tea. A brand which he knows the store gets new stock of every Tuesday. So Tuesday it is, for good tea he will suffer through almost anything.

But what makes Tuesday the worst day of all is _the call_. Because every Tuesday at eight thirty in the evening he always gets a call from his cousin Lobelia. A dreadfully mean woman she is, has had her eyes on his home – a mansion, really, with lots of land which he inherited from his parents when they passed away. Befitting of her personality, she never calls to inquire after his health. Never wants to know how his week has been. Oh, she asks. But she doesn’t care. All she wants to know is if he a) died and left her to inherit the house or b) will just give it to her voluntarily. Sometimes Bilbo feels bad for the deluded woman.

 

This Tuesday, though, has been quite a series of unfortunate events following each other a bit too closely for comfort.

For starters, his alarm didn’t go off. Very distressing and he hated waking up fifteen minutes before he was supposed to open shop. 

When he stepped outside it rained. And rained. And rained. Seriously, he thinks he hasn’t seen a dry moment during the entire day.

Of course the train was late.

_Of fucking course_ Bofur’s car broke down meaning Bilbo had to open shop – twenty-two minutes after official opening hours – and run it by himself for an hour and a bit.

And naturally there was some stupid jerk that wasn’t paying attention to him but to the woman standing on his right and thus spilled hot coffee – fucking coffee – over Bilbo’s hand.

So, as he leaves the shop that evening he hopes that at least his trip to the grocery store won’t be as horrific as the rest of the day.

\---

“WATCH OUT!”

Bilbo doesn’t have time to look up from the package he is scrutinizing.

All he hears is those two words – and doesn’t the person yelling sound awfully young? – before a shopping cart forcefully hits him in the side.

His eyes widen, he stumbles to his right and then promptly falls over at about the same time the shopping cart – two little kids and all the groceries included – tumbles to the floor.

He cries out, more in shock than in pain, when he hits the ground. He closes his eyes with a groan for a second before the situation registers in his slightly muffled brain.

Not only is he lying on the cold, dirty floor of the grocery store, there are also two little boys lying on the floor between the scattered contents of their shopping cart. Not only that, one of them is wailing so loud that Bilbo is afraid if he doesn’t shut him up, people will think _he_ is to blame for all of this.

He scrambles himself up into a sitting position and, hoping he doesn’t sound too annoyed, asks: “You boys okay?”

Bilbo has to admit that, despite the whole situation, they are quite cute boys. The smallest one – dark hair, big teary eyes and a runny nose – is clutching the slightly bigger boy – blond, a bit fearful of posture and currently looking very warily at Bilbo.

At the question the blond one hugs the other a bit closer but before he can speak, a deep, strong voice echoes through the aisle. “Fili, Kili!”

Bilbo thinks he can detect hints of both anger and fear in that voice and decides it must be the boys’ father. He smiles at the two children – their eyes big and apologetic – who are now both watching a tall man – ruggedly handsome, might Bilbo add – come rushing towards them.

The man – black hair that falls down his back in somewhat curly tresses, a slightly crumpled suit that might’ve looked un-wrinkled _before_ the boys and _oh_ does he look good – rushes to the boys. His blue eyes – enchanting, outspoken, gorgeous – don’t spare Bilbo a glance as he drops himself on the floor and gathers the crying children – even the blond is hiccupping now – in his arms. 

“You foolish boys!” He scolds, voice deep and stern although the fact he is still tightly holding them to his chest sort of revokes the effect. “How many times do I need to tell you? Behave! Or you will end up hurting yourselves.”

The dark haired boy continues wailing loudly, the stern words not calming him down. In fact, Bilbo thinks it’s rather the opposite effect. The blond sniffles, pushes his head against his father’s chest and mumbles: “Sowwy,” in such a sad voice it all but breaks Bilbo’s heart.

Meanwhile the father looks absolutely torn between scolding his boys or telling them he loves them, most likely. It’s quite the forlorn look he has on his face. Quite the lovely look, Bilbo decides, with the mix of emotions on his face.

In fact, everything about this man seems to be either lovely or gorgeous. From his expression, to his voice to his body that’s quite well-build, Bilbo decides now that he can actually take a look. Strong arms, protective nature. Oh yes, certainly the kind of man Bilbo is helplessly attracted to. Married with children.

_Oh damn_ , he is staring. 

He quickly turns his eyes away and is almost relieved when he sees the contents of his own basket on the floor. A distraction. Good.

He takes his basket and starts gathering his things, even making a small pile of the groceries that had tumbled from the gorgeous – Bilbo, shut up – man’s cart. 

In fact, he is so busy not focusing on the man that he doesn’t listen to the conversation anymore. He just piles groceries on two separate heaps.

“Misser, misser!” 

Bilbo blinks, confused for a second before he realizes the sweet, curious and slightly shy voice is calling out to him. He turns and sees three pairs of eyes trained on him, one more curious than the other.

The boys are now both standing, their father squatted down behind them and a hand on each of the boys’ shoulders. The look he is giving Bilbo is one that sends a shiver down Bilbo’s spine.

_Fool_. He tells himself. He best just get out of here before he actually makes a fool out of himself.

So he puts a smile on his face and regards the boys. “So you never answered. You boys okay?”

The blond one shuffles a bit closer to his father, lips pressed together and he nods mutely at Bilbo.

The brown haired boy just smiles brightly. “We is fine, Misser!” 

“Yes, perfectly fine.” The man nods and gives Bilbo an apologetic smile that _doesn’t_ make Bilbo’s heart skip a beat, oh no. “You as well, I hope.”

All Bilbo can do is nod. Truly, he is afraid that if he speaks now his voice will sound like a squeaky toy.

“Good.” The man nods, a look of slight relief crossing his features. It smoothes out the tired look on his face, makes his eyes twinkle happily and Bilbo’s stomach is _not_ a ballerina doing twirls, _damn it_! “Now Fili,” a pat to the blond’s head, “and Kili,” a pat to the other boy’s head, “would like to say something to you.”

Both boys lower their eyes to the ground at that. Fili shuffles his feet against the floor and Kili glances at his brother in confusion.

“Boys,” their father warns them sternly.

“We is sowwy,” Fili mumbles, his words tumbling out in a rush and he clenches his hands together. “We didn’t wanna hurt you.”

“Yeah!” Kili nods his head vigorously. He looks up at Bilbo with big, uncertain eyes and his voice shaking, most likely on the verge of tears, he asks: “You isn’t mad, Misser? We is weally, weally sowwy!”

Bilbo can’t help but chuckle. Really, is there anyone on the world that could possible stay angry with these two adorable boys? “No, no, I’m not angry.” He shakes his head and gives each of the boys a smile. “Nothing is broken, no-one is hurt so everything is fine.” He nods to himself and stands up. “Just… maybe don’t do it again.”

The boys both nod. “We wont.” Kili promises.

Fili meanwhile stares at Bilbo. Then he glances at his father – who is in the process of standing up – before turning his big eyes back to Bilbo and curiously asking: “You gonna ask Unca for coffee now?”

Bilbo’s eyes widened, staring at the boy in shock. “W-what?” He asks, voice soft and shocked. He might have been thinking that but… he hadn’t said it out loud. Had he? 

And, uncle? He thinks before telling himself not to get his hopes up. 

“Fili!” The man snaps, his voice soft and low with a hint of urgency to it. “You can’t ask people that, all right?”

Fili frowns, lips pulling into a pout and he looks at his… uncle. “Why?” He demands.

Next to him, Kili nods. “Yeah, tha lady asked us too!”

Bilbo’s eyes widen slightly at those words. Not that he should be surprised. A man as handsome as this would most likely get asked out for coffee quite often. The fact he himself is never _ever_ going to ask doesn’t mean he should be jealous of someone who actually had dared to.

He dares to glance up at the man.

There is a small hint of pink on the men’s cheeks and his confident stance has become a tad bit uncomfortable. 

It’s almost like he _wants_ to be asked.

Bilbo swallows, pushes the thought away because it’s just ridiculous. The man might not be the boys’ father, might even be gay, but what would a man like that ever want with someone like him?

By now, Fili and Kili are both looking at him with expecting eyes. “Will you as’ us misser?” Kili asks.

Bilbo feels the blush spread over his cheeks and he looks at the boys – favoring their begging expressions above that of their uncle. “I… well.”

“Please, ignore my nephews.” The man comes to his rescue.

Immediately Bilbo’s eyes snap up. He _doesn’t_ feel disappointed. He doesn’t.

Knowing he has Bilbo’s attention, the man’s eyes soften a bit and a barely-there smile graces his face. “You’re sure you are all right?”

Bilbo nods. “Oh yes, yes perfectly fine.” He smiles, perhaps a bit nervously. “As I said, nothing hurt.”

The man looks relieved. “Good.” He nods. “And thank you, mister…?”

Bilbo’s heart skips a beat at the open curiosity and he couldn’t keep the shy smile from his lips. “Bilbo Baggins. And no need to thank me for anything, really.”

“Thorin Oakenshield.” The man introduces himself. “And you’ve been very patient with the boys. That in itself deserves a proper thank you. I also want to apologize on their behalf.”

Bilbo laughs. “Oh no, that’s not necessary. They’re good boys and accidents happen, right?”

Thorin nods and Bilbo leans down to take his basket from the floor. “So, I guess I’ll just… continue shopping.”

Thorin nods. “Yes, of course. Sorry for keeping you.”

Bilbo shakes his head with a chuckle. “No problem at all. You have a nice day.” He tells Thorin with a smile and then grins down at the two boys. “And you try not to use people as bowling pins anymore, hm.”

They both nod with big eyes and he chuckles.

With nothing more to say, he turns around and walks away.

Behind him he hears the boys asking Thorin who the nice man was, why he didn’t ask them for coffee because he was much nicer than _that lady._

All Bilbo can do is walk away faster, stopping only when he’s three aisles away.

_Thorin Oakenshield_

He shakes his head. He should’ve just asked the man out for some coffee, after all. A man like that, even _he_ would suffer through a cup.

\---

It’s a week later and Bilbo’s been in a piss-poor mood ever since last Tuesday.

After his conversation with Thorin he had wandered around the store for another fifteen minutes. He’d tried to gather courage. He had even succeeded, but when he then searched for Thorin, Fili and Kili to invite the three of them for some coffee they were gone.

When he got home it had taken a lot of restraint not to smash something. He wanted to, but he had settled for some beer, pizza and sulking instead.

After that little had happened to make his mood any better. 

Work had been busy, Bofur had noticed something had happened straight away and asked questions – some curious, others teasing – until Bilbo had actually _slammed_ a customer’s coffee down onto the counter with a snarl.

_That_ had ended the questions straight away.

Of course, after that it could all have been a bit better. If only Bilbo hadn’t been compelled to go to the store on Saturday to see if maybe, _maybe_ Thorin would be there.

Right.

_That_ had ruined his weekend quite spectacularly.

 

So when he walks into the grocery store today, Bilbo isn’t amused.

In fact, he all but races straight to his tea. He will get the rest of the groceries from the store right on the corner of his street. Maybe he should also check if he can order the tea online. It would save him a lot of unnecessary trips to a place he’d rather not be for at least a month. He guesses after that time the burn of what happened last week will be gone by then.

His day, however, gets slightly better when he sees not one, but a few new flavors of tea. 

 

He is about to reach for the third new flavor when suddenly, he hears: “Well, look at that.”

His eyes widen and a flush is quick to settle on his cheeks.

_Oh_

He’d recognize that voice anywhere. He’s had dreams about that voice. Lots of them.

With his heart almost in his throat and his face burning from a flush of both shyness and excitement, he turns around.

He wants to say that his breath doesn’t catch in his throat. Wishes he could admit his heart doesn’t skip a beat. But it happens and for a few seconds he is left speechless. 

His mind only stops a second to wonder why Thorin would speak to him. How the man is here because it’s just too much of a coincidence, isn’t it?

Then, however, he notices the small smile on Thorin’s lips – _oh_ those lips – and the sliver of excitement in his eyes. 

Bilbo swallows and tells himself that this is as good as a second chance he will ever get. He won’t back out this time.

Something about his thoughts must’ve shown on his face, for Thorin’s lips curled up into a smirk. “We meet again, Bilbo.” Thorin’s voice drops to a low murmur, his hands clenching at his sides almost as if he’s unsure whether to touch Bilbo or not.

Bilbo shivers, a rush of excitement going through him. Then he gives himself a mental kick – _c’mon Bilbo, man up!_ – and grins at Thorin. “Indeed we do. What a coincidence.”

“Perhaps,” Thorin laughs – and shouldn’t _that_ response be somewhat scary rather than hot? – and shakes his head. “Although I must admit I don’t believe in coincidences. Now that we meet again… I actually wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”

Bilbo raises an eyebrow, anticipation curling in his gut. “Of course.”

Thorin’s eyes nervously dart around the store for a second before he looks at Bilbo and a bit hesitantly asks: “Could I ask you to join me for a cup of coffee?”

Bilbo takes a deep breath. The hesitance in Thorin’s voice is both satisfying and flattering – at least he doesn’t assume Bilbo will say yes straight away. He looks genuine and Bilbo wants nothing more than to say yes, leave his basket where it is and get the hell out of here with Thorin. But he’s always been the kind of person to need to be reassured, so it’s quite automatic when he says: “I am no lady.” Because even though his tone is teasing and light, he still wants to be sure.

Thorin’s nerves seem gone the moment the last word passes Bilbo’s lips. Without warning, Thorin steps forward – straight into Bilbo’s personal space. “There is a reason why she was rejected.” His voice is low and husky, his breath ghosting over the shell of Bilbo’s ear.

Bilbo can’t stop the shiver that goes through him. It’s excitement and nerves all in one. He’s never done such a thing, after all. He wants it, though, so he tries to push down his nerves.

He smiles at Thorin. “Good to know. I’ve got time now, if you want.” He says before he can stop himself. He’s never been this forward.

“Great,” Thorin nods with a small smile on his lips, yet his eyes twinkle happily. He leans down to pick up Bilbo’s basket. “Let’s check these out and then get some coffee. I know a place down the road.” 

Bilbo quickly grabs two random packs of tea from the shelf and dumps them into the basket. He feels proud of himself, happy too and overjoyed that a man like Thorin actually wants to have coffee with _him_. 

Speaking of which…

“Do they have tea, too?”

 

THAT'S ALL FOLKS


End file.
